


The Things He Can't Have

by ladyshisou



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Heavy Petting, Mutual Pining, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 05:26:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13241376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyshisou/pseuds/ladyshisou
Summary: Nyx can't think around you and you decide to take advantage of that





	The Things He Can't Have

**Author's Note:**

> Written as the last fic of the year but I got distracted and it ended up being the first one for 2018 instead~ Also, gift fic for my one and only writing partner-in-crime <3 Happy New Year everyone and enjoy some Nyx goodness!!

 

“Get your charge in line Ulric!”

 Nyx jolted up from where he sat lounging on a chair in one of the Kingsglaive’s briefing rooms. His captain stood at the door, arms crossed over his chest and Nyx felt his stomach drop at the look of pure annoyance on Drautos’ face. Whatever this was, he had a pretty good idea what was coming his way. The glaive held his sigh and asked anyway, “Sir?”

            Drautos gritted his teeth, “Your charge. The first princess of Tenebrae. Lady Y/N.”

“Ah.”

            “Don’t ‘ah’ me, Ulric. I put you in charge of the girl so why is she out there on the training grounds, warping around with the rest of the Kingsglaive?” Drautos rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Just— go get her. Now. If she manages to kill herself before Prince Noctis and Lady Lunafreya’s wedding, the King would never let me hear the end of it.”

 “Right away, Sir.”

 He didn’t mean to leave the princess alone. To be fair, she _wasn’t_ alone. Nyx made sure he left her in the care of Crowe and Pelna, some of his most trusted friends, before he disappeared with the excuse that he was stationed somewhere else today. Nyx just needed some time to _think_. That was not something he could do whenever he was around the headstrong, energetic princess— who was currently zipping across the training ground in a blur of colourful flashes. How she managed to do that was beyond him but he chalked it up to the power that lies within the blood of the Oracle. Nyx stared at her lithe form, the way she twisted in the sky so gracefully, a gleeful smile on that beautiful face that- his brain refused to provide him the words he needed and Nyx decided to give up.

            She always stopped him dead in his tracks.

* * *

 

The sun was beating down hard, its light reflected by your white garments, making it hard for anyone to look at you without squinting. You were perched lightly on a strong column, high on adrenaline and weighing the kukri in your hands when the call of your name caught your attention.

 Nyx Ulric, your assigned guard, stood right at the entrance. He inclined his head at you and yelled, “You really shouldn’t be up there, Y/N!”

            You sort of agreed with him. Now that you had the time to actually look where you were, the column that you were on was actually one of the tallest in the arena. A fall from this height… you looked away from the ground to quickly halt that train of thought.

 “Come on, Y/N. Get down here and I’ll take you back to the Citadel!”

            You snorted. You were still here because Nyx refused to drive you back in the first place. “You came down here to the Kingsglaive HQ on your own two feet,” he had said. “You can return to the Citadel on your own two feet, too.”

 Libertus has muttered something along the lines of ‘tough love’ and was rewarded with a swift kick to the shin that you were very satisfied with. But it _was_ about time you would be missed by the Citadel staff, who would most certainly alert the King if they discovered you missing. You sighed, and began to look for a path down.

 There were none.

 Your blood ran cold. Of course, it was easy for you to climb up. All it took was to aim for the top of the next column and the next and the next. But to climb down… You swallowed, gripping the kukri with more force than necessary. To climb down, you would have to aim for the body of the column and hang on. Your pulse quickened at the idea of dangling high above the ground with nothing to break your fall if you slipped. Damn it.

 Below, Crowe frowned. “Do you know how to get down, princess?”

            You didn’t. But you’d be damned if you'd admit to it in front of Nyx. You took a steadying breath, and threw the kukri. As soon as the weapon left your grasp, you knew it wouldn’t hold. The throw lacked strength and instead of being embedded in the structure, it would bounce off it and you would fall. How many broken bones would it be this time, you wondered.

 “Y/N!!”

 The kukri bounced off the column, as expected, but you didn’t fall. A hard impact knocked the wind out of your lungs and you felt yourself thrown sideways now, limbs curled to brace for a final blow. Nyx grunted as he broke the fall, quickly rolling the both of you over to ride off its momentum. He still held on to you, arms over your head to protect it, as the both of you finally rolled to a stop.

            “Goddamn royalty with no sense of self preservation,” Nyx finally bit out, releasing you to collapse against the dusty floor of the platform you were on.

You rested against him. You were still breathing heavily, mind whirling to make sense of what just happened. It was hot, but you came to the realization that the heat was coming from the body beneath you. You flushed.

 “You…” you said, slowly. “You saved me. Thank you.”

 “Only doing my job, Highness.”

            You looked up to electric blue eyes and saw something in them. But it was quickly blinked away as if it was never there in the first place. After a moment, Nyx gently nudged you off him, assessing your person for any signs of injury. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

You looked down on your arms and fingers. No sign of blood, no broken bones. You grinned at him, “Still in one piece.”

 Nyx shook his head but you saw the curl of a smile on his lips as he got to his feet, helping you to do the same. “Good. I was afraid I might get myself thrown into the dungeon for a moment there,” he replied.

 “I think you still deserve to spend some time out down there for neglecting the princess in the first place,” you said as you patted the dust off your clothes. You cringed. The servants would have a very hard time getting that much dirt off your less-than-pristine white clothes. Maybe that’s why the Lucian royalty always wear black.

            “I was not neglecting—“

 “Are you two done up there!” Crowe voice interrupted your conversation. Somewhere nearby, you could hear Pelna snickering. “Cause if you’re taking this long, either the princess is dead or you’re both kissing and I don’t want to warp myself up there to find out!”

 You felt heat rise to your cheeks. “I’m not dead yet, Crowe!” you yelled back, huffing over to the side of the platform to glare at the amused witch. She took a look at you before doubling over in laughter. “Why are you laughing?” you demanded, making your way down to her. Honestly, sure, anyone would look funny after a fall like that but Crowe didn’t have to _laugh_.

 

“You… You might not want to go back to the Citadel looking like that.”     

            “So I just got some dirt on my clothes. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not, is it?” Crowe raised a questioning eyebrow. “Do you think it’s not a big deal either, Nyx?”

 Affronted, you turned to let Nyx look at you. The glaive froze, eyes widening in an expression you have yet seen on him. Nyx sucked a breath, “You’re right, Crowe. We’re going to need to fix that.”     

                                                                                                             

It was only after Nyx took you to his humble apartment to get you cleaned up, that you finally managed to get a proper look at your reflection in a mirror. You gasped, clutching the mirror closer to your face. You looked absolutely _scandalous_.

 Dirtied clothes, smudged lipstick and loosened braids. You were the very picture of an aristocrat out on a tryst with a secret lover. “I can’t go back to the citadel looking like this,” you announced, eliciting a chuckle from the glaive who was already digging through his closet. “King Regis will definitely take it the wrong way, as will everyone else in court.” You snatched a tissue from Nyx’s dresser and began wiping the lipstick off.

            In the mirror, you saw Nyx come up to where you were and offer a black jacket. You smiled, letting him drape it across your shoulders. “Is this included in your job description, Nyx?” you asked. “Babysitting and damage control?”

 Nyx made a show of thinking and you elbowed him, grinning widely. “Damage control, yes,” he said. “But I don’t consider this babysitting.”

 “The Hero’s place is out there, Nyx. In the front lines, fighting glorious battles for your kingdom. Watching over the princess of a fallen kingdom annexed by Niflheim can definitely be considered babysitting.”

            “So, you think I’d rather stare death in the face every day instead of you?” His words were soft, and sincere; it made you turn to properly face the taller man. You searched his face for an emotion, silent words, anything. It had been a slow burn, your attraction to each other. Neither of you knew why, but if Nyx weren’t on the frontlines, he would be assigned as your guard. You normally didn’t give too much attention to your retainers, they changed frequently. But Nyx—

 He was impossible to ignore.

          Mainly because when the nightmares came, while the other guards stood respectfully outside the door, pretending they didn’t hear your thrashing and your cries, Nyx would throw them open and march in. “It’s okay,” he would say. “It’s over now.” It wasn't over. Every day you lived was a living continuation of that nightmare. Letter after letter bearing the news of the murder of your mother, the capture of your siblings; the sight of King Regis and Prince Noctis bruised and battered at the Citadel doors, barely having escaped with their lives. The guilt you feel of not being where you were supposed to be, safe in Insomnia while Tenebrae burned.

But hearing Nyx say that it was okay, made it easier to pretend that it is.

            Sometimes you think he was telling that to himself, too. He had lost Galahd, and you had lost Tenebrae. There was a sort of kinship amongst those who are broken. Something that no one in the Citadel would understand. But the Kingsglaive, they understood loss. They understood _not belonging._ And you found yourself increasingly spending time with them. And Nyx.

 Nyx brought his face close to yours. You could make out the subtle tattoos on his face, the Galahdian braids in his hair that you’ve always wondered the meaning to. “There are days when I do wish I wouldn’t have to see you,” he confessed.

            “Why?” you breathed. You cursed your rabbit heart, stuttering, hanging on to every word he says.

 “Because… you make me want things I can’t have.”

            You felt heat pool deep in your stomach at his words and you leaned forward, lips so close to his. Nyx didn’t pull away. He held your gaze, a glint in his eyes that you know were reflected in your own. “What is it, Nyx? What are those things that you say you can’t have?”

           You heard him take a shaky breath. Nyx lifted a hand to your cheek, barely touching your skin but you could feel his heat, sought it, and you lifted your hand to pull his closer. “This,” he whispered.

 The glaive wrapped his free arm around you, pulling your body flush against his and you gasped, resting your hands his chest. He was a soldier but only now, enfolded in his embrace, did you properly notice how broad his shoulders were and the way power— the King’s power— rippled under his skin like it was natural. Like it was _his_. Nyx was close, so close. It felt like he could overwhelm you. “This,” he said. You licked your lips.

 “And... this.” In one smooth movement, Nyx closed the distance between the both of you. The kiss was soft and sweet and agonizingly patient, just a touch of lips, butterfly kisses that left you wanting more and more. You let out a noise of protest, aware that Nyx was purposely doing this. Savouring the way you wanted him the same way he wanted you. “Nyx,” you hissed, finding leverage in the lapel of his uniform and yanked him to you.

            The glaive let out a laugh before folding to your demand. He cradled your face between his hands, pressing your foreheads together and covered your mouth with his in a hungry, urgent kiss. You responded with the same hunger, desperation and longing mixed together until you no longer knew which was which. If this was fire then you wanted to be consumed in it until there was nothing left but ashes. His mouth was hot and surprisingly soft; you wanted more. You bit his bottom lip and he groaned, pressing you roughly into a wall you had no idea was behind you when this all started.

 “If these,” you gasped out the words between feverish kisses. “Are the things you cannot have—“ Nyx’s gaze was smouldering and dangerous now. A warning. “Then I will give them to you, Nyx Ulric.”

             He bent down and kissed you again, this time slowly; you could feel his smile against your lips and you smiled back, threading your hands through his dark hair. “Your graciousness is infinite, my lady,” Nyx said with a small bow of his head. You laughed.

Nevertheless, your disappearance stirred up the Citadel quite a bit and Nyx was given strict direct orders to never leave your side until when Drautos said so, which would be quite some time yet. Not that you minded, of course.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
